


A Christmas Miracle

by storyplease



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5937610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyplease/pseuds/storyplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is Christmas time, but there is nothing to celebrate. He has no reason to go on.  Or does he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Christmas Miracle

Shit. Everything was shit.

 

The cold winter air blasted painfully against his exposed face.  He took the punishment willingly, curling his hands into tight balls in the folds of his dark robes.

 

_ I am shit. The lowest of scum. _

 

Standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower, Severus Snape looked down at the bleak landscape far below him.  

 

_ She is dead.  Not even two months gone.  How can I celebrate anything when she is dead?   _

 

His face was etched with deep lines that spoke of weariness beyond his years. The only brightness in the sea of mourning black that he wore could be seen in the sliver of white at the cuffs of his arms and the stark white of the cravat fastened around his neck. This had not been his first Christmas without Lily, but it was his first Christmas knowing that she was not out there somewhere, smiling, laughing,  _ breathing _ .  Even if she would never be his friend again, even if she would never see him as anything other than a mistake she made when she was young and ignorant, it had been a tiny mercy to know that at least she was happy.  She could be happy enough for him too. But by the time he had realized what his master had wanted,  _ what he had done _ , it had been far too late.

 

_ But what use is breaking free of my old master when he has merely been replaced by a new one?  Do I even deserve to be free at all? Perhaps this is simply apt punishment for all I have done.  If so, I deserve it. _

 

As far as masters went, Albus Dumbledore wasn’t the worst possible master to have.  But teaching was another thing altogether. Severus had no problems with Potions.  His problem was with  _ teaching _ Potions.  With spending every day, every month, every damnable  _ year _ watching the same stories of his own youth play out on new faces.  There were always bullies picking on the weaker kids, bullies who were rarely properly punished because of their good looks, athleticism or simply the privileges that coming from wealth afforded them.

 

_ No.  I should have died in her place.  It should have been me.  I have brought her nothing but pain and misery and death. _

 

He looked down over the ramparts and imagined how easy it would be to simply slip off of one and fall to his doom.

 

_ No.  I gave my word to protect her child. _

 

He froze in place, one long leg bent at the knee while one gloved hand steadied himself to step up onto the stone wall, simultaneously wanting to take that final step but knowing that he was unable to do so.

 

“Quite the night out here, isn’t it, Severus?”

 

The dark wizard yelped and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden question when he had thought himself utterly alone, his foot catching on a patch of ice and sending him slipping backwards until he landed on his arse in a wholly undignified manner. 

 

Swearing under his breath, he winced, biting back tears that sprang to his eyes far more readily than he would ever have cared to admit to anyone.  Luckily, his eyes were hidden by the greasy black hair that hung in his face, even if the same could not be said for his large, hooked nose.

 

A wizened hand was extended to him and he took it, feeling a warm ripple of power surging under the thin wrinkled skin of the man before him as he was pulled up to his feet and felt the sharp knife of the freezing wind fade away, banished by the old man’s magic.

 

“Penny for your thoughts, Severus?” Dumbledore said kindly, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses.

 

“I…” Severus stopped speaking when he realized that he did not know how to respond.  

 

It was the first time since their meeting all those months ago that they had spoken about anything beyond what duties were expected of him.  Part of him, the darker side of him, warned him that being too honest would make him weak and easy to exploit.  He was trying to banish that voice, the one that had tricked him into thinking that he could gain power from following a man who wanted all of it to himself.  

 

Being weak was not always bad, was it?

 

“I feel as though I should have died instead,” Severus finally said, without preamble.

 

“Ah,” Dumbledore replied, looking off into the distance as he clacked some sort of hard candy against his teeth, “I should have known.  Your heart knows what it lost. And when it is the only thing of worth to lose, you feel the effects to a far greater extent.”

 

_ Lemon.  He smells like lemon. She used to smell like roses, which was ironic considering that she was named after a very different flower. _

 

His stomach clenched at the memory of the scent underneath the flower, that unmistakable scent of  _ her _ that he would never smell again.  And those eyes….would he ever see such a curious shade of green again?

 

“You are not the only young man to have accepted the weight of another’s life. I too made mistakes in my youth,” Dumbledore continued, looking over at the youngest Potions professor in Hogwarts history, “I would like to believe that even the most heartless of men can find forgiveness if they can only bring themselves to work from a place of love instead of out of a place of hatred and selfishness.”

 

“Does it hurt less as time goes on?” Severus asked morosely, “Because I do not think that I can bear this pain for much longer.”

 

“It is indeed a heavy burden,” Dumbledore replied, “But I would not have accepted your service if I knew that you did not carry it.”

 

The man draped in black robes turned away sharply so that the headmaster in his prismatic robes could not see the anguish in his features.

 

“And why is that?” Severus snapped angrily, his voice growling low in the wind, “Do you enjoy watching my heart twist and wither on the vine?  Am I to be tied for life to a master who is as immeasurably cruel as my last?”

 

Dumbledore tsked softly in reply, and Severus could hear the whispering folds of the damnable man’s robes as he approached.  It was so much easier to hate the man for failing to protect her than it was to hate himself, but even this did not still the self-loathing in his belly.  A gentle hand rested on his shoulder and Severus could not help but look at how stark the white gnarled fingers appeared as they curved over the dark fabric of his cape.

 

“It is Christmas day,” Dumbledore said gently, “Will you walk with me for a time?”

 

His dark, greasy hair shifted as Severus nodded miserably and he did not flinch as Dumbledore took his arm and led him down the stairs and inside the castle.

 

“You see, Severus,” the headmaster said softly, “You are special, though perhaps in a way you had not expected.  You understand what it is to be responsible for loss of life.  None of my other allies truly understand the weight upon the soul that this creates, but their ignorance of what it is to regret the death one has caused is also a weakness.  It is a happy weakness, but a weakness nonetheless.  For when the time comes again for war to be waged, only those of us who have been personally responsible for death know the true cost to the soul, and it will be our responsibility to do whatever it takes to minimize the bloodshed on all sides and to protect those who do not yet know this pain from ever knowing it.”

 

“You...you think that my mistake makes me strong?” Severus replied sadly, “I certainly do not feel it.  It is as though I died when she did. I am merely walking around in a semblance of life and a poor one at that!”

 

“Strength and weakness are often mistaken for one another.  It is the very thing that poor Tom Riddle refused to learn and it was ultimately his undoing,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully, his eyes bright behind his half-moon spectacles, “You, on the other hand, will know power and the price of it, and this will give you the ability to wield it properly and without hesitation.  You are not merely a servant, Severus.  You are my equal.”

 

Dark eyes looked deeply into sparkling blue, and Severus shivered, though not from the cold.

 

“Do you...do you mean that?” Severus said, his voice husky with grief.

 

“Even a man who has lost everything can find something to give of himself,” Dumbledore replied cryptically.

 

“But everyone hates me!  I know that I am not exactly a ray of sunshine, but I cannot stand one more class where students who still think of me as a student myself act as though they can simply usurp my authority as a professor because of my age!”

 

“If this is indeed true,” Dumbledore said, his mouth turned up in an indulgent smile, “I suggest that in your case, you may find that vinegar works better than honey.  You should not feel obligated to pretend to be someone that you are not, Slytherin or no.  Sometimes an unpleasant demeanor and rigid standards can garner just as much respect as indulgent kindness.  Of course, you may find yourself without many fans, but if I may be so bold, I do not think that your particular temperament thrives on empty-headed compliments and vacuous student esteem.”

 

The dark wizard’s eyes widened as he seemed to absorb this new information. To be as strict and unpleasant as was his nature as long as he kept to his duties...could such a thing even be possible?  

 

“Oh, and Severus? I saved something for you from the Great Hall,” Dumbledore said with a small smile, pulling something long and checkered from the inner chest pocket of his robes.  

 

It was a Wizard Cracker whose wrapper was emblazoned with silver and green and charmed with little snakes wearing Santa hats that slithered across it.

 

Severus looked at it dubiously.

 

“Am I to believe that you would like me to engage in this...childish tradition?” he said, his lip curling slightly out of habit more than anything.

 

“Yes, I do,” Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously, “Please, humor me Severus.”

 

“Very well,” Severus replied, sighing deeply, and he held out his hand to grasp the end.

 

With a giant BANG, the cracker exploded, showering Severus with little bits of confetti and silver streamers.  When the smoke settled, he found himself covered with tinsel and colored flecks that caught the candlelight and shone like jewels.  He looked not unlike one of the tall, dark fir trees that had been decorated in the Great Hall for the Christmas holidays. It was only his scowl that seemed strangely out of place amid the glittering finery that adorned his person.

 

Something heavy landed in his open palm.  He opened his eyes gingerly and they went wide with shock and amazement as he realized that in his hand was a flat silver pin engraved with the crest of Salazar Slytherin. A tiny emerald snake was coiled through the silver, staring fiercely with glittering ruby eyes.

 

“Happy Christmas Severus Snape, new Head of Slytherin House,” Dumbledore said, patting the man softly on his shoulder, “And I do believe that this is a record.  The youngest professor in Hogwarts history and promoted to Head of House after less than a year’s employment?  You are accomplishing great things, my boy!”

 

Severus looked a bit panicky at this pronouncement but he finally composed himself and said softly, “Thank you.  It is a great honor.”

 

A paper crown was placed on his head and he tried not to flinch.

 

“There!” Dumbledore said, surveying his work, “That looks quite marvelous, if I do say so myself!  Now, then, there are a few other things here for you, but I will send them to your private quarters to open later.”

 

The headmaster pulled his wand from his robes and Vanished the stack of presents that had landed on the floor before him while Severus stood there silently, still studying the pin in his hand as though trying to figure out if it was actually real.  After a moment, he finally pinned it onto his robes, where it glittered smartly in the torchlight.

 

“Now, then,” Dumbledore said soberly as he pulled something else from the folds of his robe, “This is from me to you. It is my hope that this will help you to remember your mission always.”

 

Severus took the small package hesitantly, as though he were afraid it was about to bite him.

 

Dumbledore chuckled, “You do trust me, don’t you?”

 

“After that display, can you blame me?” Severus replied darkly, unwrapping it as though he were dissecting a frog.

 

He pulled the small frame from the wrapping and his face went slack with fresh grief.

 

In the picture, two students were walking to class from the Great Hall.  One was dressed in Gryffindor red and gold, while the other was dressed in Slytherin green and silver, the accents that marked their respective houses in stark contrast to one another. They walked through the frame only for the image to loop back from the beginning as they left the Great Hall again.  Lily was laughing at something Severus has said, her green eyes sparkling with magic in a familiar way that made his stomach lurch with pain, and the pale, pinched face of the young boy in the picture was full of a mad sense of hope that perhaps the worst of it was over and he was finally going to be able to break free of his sordid past and become worthy enough to be a good friend and a great wizard.

 

“We...we were only First Year students in this picture,” Severus said, his voice choking up slightly as he clutched the picture to his chest, “We were headed to Potions class...that was when we sat together...worked together..before everything went so horribly, terribly wrong…”

 

Dumbledore smiled sadly.

 

“I found a number of undeveloped rolls of film in the old school paper club room, and this one was among them.  I want you to keep it as a token of our friendship, and as a reminder of what you are fighting for when Lily’s son begins his schooling here,” the headmaster said, his voice wistful and kind.

 

“Thank you, Albus,” Severus said quietly, “I should like to find a place to hang your generous gift.”

 

“Excellent,” Dumbledore replied, patting Severus gently on the shoulder once more, “I am glad that you liked your gift so much.  And I sincerely hope that you enjoy your time here at Hogwarts in your new capacity.”

 

Severus nodded curtly and turned away from the headmaster, his measured steps quietly tapping against the stone floor and his teaching robes billowing softly behind him as he walked quickly down the stairs towards his personal chambers in the dungeons.

 

As he held the frame to his chest, he could feel a sense of something other than despair for the first time since he had learned she was gone. And that night, before he went to bed, and for every night after, he would pick up the picture from where it was displayed on his bedside table next to the inevitable stack of books he was always reading and he would look at it until the image was etched in his memory, the carefree happiness of the child he used to be and the girl who had been his one and only best friend filing him until his mouth turned up at the corners.

 

And Severus Snape smiled.


End file.
